The wizard tisked. “No need for unpleasantness, my friend. Tell me what you know and the boy won’t be harmed. You have my word.”
Kedrick’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “The girl you seek is traveling with a giant, a troll, and a Finlaran warrior.”
Glonoff leaned forward. “How do you know she’s the one I seek?”
“I went to Haroun looking for my son after he went missing.” After your soldiers took him, Kedrick wanted to shout. “The next day, I happened upon the girl with her companions, and recognized her from the posters.”
“Describe this girl.”
“Thin and pale, with dark, curly hair,” said Kedrick, thinking. “She has fine eyes, though. Like swamp violets, they are. Not a beauty like Hara, but the resemblance is there, all the same.”
“How did you ‘happen’ upon this girl with the fine eyes?”
Kedrick stared at his feet. “Men came while we were gone and stole our little ones.” He didn’t bother to hide his bitterness. “This girl you seek rescued them. Keron was one of ’em.”
“How extraordinary.” The wizard looked thoughtful. “And how very unlike her sister.”
“Keron overheard the girl and her companions talking,” Kedrick said. “They’re headed for Gambollia.”
“Gambollia?” Glonoff stroked his goatee. “To catch a ship, no doubt, but headed in what direction, north or south?”
“I don’t know, Your Worship. The boy didn’t say.”
Glonoff sat up and beckoned for Kedrick to come closer. Kedrick tried to resist, but it was no use. He stumbled to the foot of the dais, as though pulled by an invisible force.
“Look at me.”
Kedrick met the wizard’s cold gaze. At once, his wants and dreams, his deepest fears and blackest thoughts were laid bare.
“You speak the truth,” Glonoff said at last, releasing him. “I see the girl in your mind. This troll you mentioned. Does the monster, perchance, have red fur?”
Kedrick’s eyes widened. “Yes, milord. ’Twas a great ugly beast with a red pelt.”
“Ah.” Glonoff’s gaze lingered on Kedrick. “You and your son also have red hair.”
Kedrick said nothing. He was confused and uneasy. He stared instead at the sorcerer’s manicured hand. Glonoff’s skin looked bloodless against the fur throw. Not fur, Kedrick realized, swallowing the lump of revulsion in this throat. Human hair.
“Gar,” he said, stumbling back.
Glonoff smiled in understanding, and ran his fingers over the red coverlet. “Lovely, isn’t it? Red hair has ever been one of my passions. ” He waved a thin hand at Praxus. “See that my friend gets his reward, but mind you, have a care with the head. I won’t have such glorious locks spoiled. The rest you can feed to my pets.”
* * * *
Glonoff reclined, watching as the soldiers hauled Kedrick, kicking and howling, from the room.
“Such a fuss,” he said, smothering a yawn. “You heard?”
The High Seer stepped from behind a marble column, the hem of his blue robe rustling about his feet. “I heard. It is true, then. The other lives. What shall we do?”
“We, Zared? Ours is strictly a business arrangement—your honor in exchange for my gold.”
Anger flashed in Zared’s pale eyes and was quickly masked. “As you say, Great One.”
Glonoff chuckled. “Wise of you, High Seer, to keep your tongue between your teeth. I have given you a fortune for information and you repay me with rubbish—news of a minor potentate’s imminent demise, or tidings that the grape harvest in Valdaria will be poor next year.”
“Prophecy is an inconstant thing. Dreams come to the Circle of Seers from the Great Beyond. They cannot be ordered like fish stew in a tavern.”
“Fish stew would be infinitely more useful,” Glonoff said. “Did I learn from your precious circle that Hara has a twin? No, I did not. Did you come to me with news of the other’s return to Tandara? Nay again. I find out from an ograk.”
“Goggins cannot be trusted, my Lord.”
“Ograks are too stupid to lie. The goggin was a loner, a scavenger living off the scraps of others. He was trailing three of his kind in hopes of a meal, when they were attacked by a Finlar in the Black Mountains.”
Glonoff’s fingers twisted in the fur on the arm of the couch. One of the Rowan’s goons had breached his borders. Irritating, but it was the discovery that the troll had been in Shad Amar that had driven him into a frenzy. She had been within his grasp, at long last, and she’d escaped.
“Lord?” Zared said.
“This solitary ograk hid in the woods and watched the battle,” Glonoff continued. “The warrior slew the three ograks and departed, along with a young woman who favors my ward.”
“Hara is a fine-looking woman and no mistake,” Zared said, “but she’s not the only female in Tandara with a figure and a head of dark hair.”
“The creature assured me that this one ‘looks like the one on ’em coins, only stringy as a rabbit wiv worms,’” said Glonoff, mimicking the ograk’s crude speech.
“A mistake,” Zared insisted. “The twin died years ago. You made certain of it.”
“Obviously, my celebration was premature.”
“I have often wondered, my Lord, how you came to learn of Hara’s twin. Of a certainty, you did not hear of it from me.”
“Of a certainty, I did not. You really are quite useless, Zared.”
The High Seer’s mouth tightened in anger. “Was it a demon, perchance? If so, you risk the damnation of the gods. Congress with the djegrali is forbidden.”
“Temper, temper, Zared.” Glonoff shook his head. “I wonder why I put up with you?”
Folding his hands within the wide sleeves of his silk robe, the High Seer bowed. “I will return to Shadow Mount, then, as I displease you. Rest assured I will inform you of any new auspices from the Great Beyond, particularly in regard to the twin.”
“I am vastly relieved to hear it,” Glonoff said with a yawn. “Thus far, your ‘auspices’ have been anemic, at best.”
Zared’s expression hardened at the insult. He turned to go, but paused. Glonoff waited in idle amusement to hear his response. Zared’s ego was monumental, and his pride had been pricked. Hubris required he reassert his importance.
“Do not be troubled by the twin’s return,” Zared said in a portentous tone. The man was never one to disappoint. “The Shara is winding and dangerous, and I foresee a troubled journey. With luck, she and her party will succumb to the perils of the river.”
“Luck is a faithless whore,” Glonoff said. “I prefer cunning and ruthlessness. They have ever stood me in good stead. The girl and her companions will not reach the sea. This, my dear Zared, you can rely upon.”
Chapter 24
Down the River
Captain Braxx kept one hand on the tiller and rubbed his aching belly with the other. He had a fondness for ale and good food, and it showed. Not that there’d been much of either, of late. He didn’t drink on duty, his cook had run off, damn his hide, and the fellow who’d taken his place in the galley seemed bent on poisoning Braxx and the crew. No matter, he’d survived worse. Growing up on the streets and docks of Gambollia had made him tough and mean. As a young man full of piss and vinegar, he’d cracked heads for the River Guild.
Head cracking, Braxx had quickly discovered, beat working as a dock dummy any day. After years of scrimping, he’d saved the scratch to buy his own vessel, the Lady Gar. The elegant name ill-suited the ponderous barge, but Braxx couldn’t care less. The Lady was his, and he’d call her whatever he damn well pleased. She was his pride and joy, and his livelihood.
He turned to survey his hairy passenger. Gar, it galled his thrifty soul to grant anyone free passage on his barge, much less a filthy troll, but there’d been no choice. The ugly beast was a kolyagga, a troll w
izard. He’d seen her transform her hulking body into a bird with his own eyes and fly across the river. Only an adept could manage such a trick.
A smart man had no doings with wizards, not if he wanted to keep his vessel afloat. He pictured his precious Lady at the bottom of the Big Shara, and shuddered. He would haul a thousand stinking trolls and their flea-ridden cubs downriver, if that’s what it took to keep the Lady safe.
The troll was bad enough, but she was traveling with a Finlar, a blond giant with a wicked-looking sword. The warrior was a member of the Rowan’s personal guard, judging from the armband he wore, and handsome as Magog before the Maiming, but his blue eyes held the promise of death for anyone who dared look sideways at the bit of fluff in the enormous cape. Prickly when it came to the troll, too—as if such a savage beast needed protection.
It was none of Braxx’s business, o’ course, and it would stay that way. No one in their right mind challenged a Finlaran warrior, and Braxx had all his oars in the water, thank you very much.
His men, on the other hand, weren’t as cautious, and they frequently sneaked a gander at the gal. She was passable looking, Braxx supposed, though too pale and scrawny by half. Her hair was dark and hung down her back in a tangled braid. Bits of the dark silk escaped to curl around her face and neck.
In truth, it didn’t matter what she looked like. She was a female and his men had been on the river for months. Having a woman on board, skinny or not, spelled trouble. He carried a rich cargo of goods out of Tannenbol, Finlara, and Sethlar to market in Gambollia, and he needed every member of his crew able and willing to work when they reached port.
He brandished his cudgel, a souvenir from his Enforcer days, in warning. “Listen up, you lot. Do your thinking with what’s between your ears and not your legs, if you know what’s good for you. The only tickle you’ll get on this boat is from Old Thumper.” He slammed the stick into the deck for emphasis. “Understood?”
The men grumbled and went back to work. Braxx was congratulating himself on a job well done when the troll appeared at his elbow.
“Nicely done,” she said in her growly purr.
He jumped and swore in surprise. The hairy beast unnerved him with her sneaking ways and her strange yellow eyes, and that made him angry. He’d faced pirates, floods, and hurricanes—and once, when stranded on a river bar, a mud goggin—but this was the first time he’d been afraid on his own boat.
“What do you want?” he asked, and none too politely.
The troll peeled back her black lips, showing an impressive set of teeth. For the life of him, Braxx couldn’t decide whether she was grinning at him, or sizing him up for a snack.
“I wanted to thank you for your hospitality and to give you this.” She pressed a handful of coins into Braxx’s palm.
He stared at the silver, resisting the impulse to test the coins with his teeth to see if they were genuine. “What’s this?”
“Money for our passage, Captain,” the troll said, sweet as you please. “More than enough to cover our fare and food. Get us safely and quickly to Gambollia and there’s a bonus in it for you.”
Braxx hesitated. Truth be told, from the moment he’d seen the wizard’s stone in the troll’s upraised paw, he’d never expected to see a garvon. Yet, here she was, offering him enough silver to pay for the trip three times over. Greed whispered. She’s a stupid animal. Keep the silver. She’s no notion she’s overpaid you.
Braxx’s palm itched with the urge to pocket the coins. The troll, damn her eyes, watched him, as if reading his thoughts. It was a trick. She was up to something.
Reluctantly, he shoved half the coins back at her. “It’s too much.”
“Thank you,” the troll said, taking the coins. “It would seem I’ve misjudged you, Captain. Forgive me when I say you don’t seem the charitable type.”
“It’s not charity. It’s plain good business. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. I want no trouble on my boat. You hear?”
“I understand.”
A childish giggle drew Braxx’s attention. The little boy stood at the bow, watching the water horses cleave through the water, their snaky bodies coiling and uncoiling in a steady rhythm.
He jabbed a finger in the boy’s direction. “And keep that brat away from my ponies. I don’t want ’em distracted.”
The troll raised her brows. “Certainly, Captain. I’ll see that Chaz doesn’t interfere with your cattle.” She started to turn away and paused. “I don’t suppose you have a comb and a mirror among your goods? The girl’s hair is sadly in need of brushing.”
“No mirrors,” Braxx said. “Mirrors on boats are bad luck. You think I want some damn demon leaking out of Skelf and onto my Lady?”
“Of course, not. Foolish of me to ask. Just the comb, then, if you have one.”
Mumbling under his breath, Braxx stomped off, returning shortly with a pair of worn boots, a vest, and a pair of loose trousers.
“Here,” he said, shoving the pile of things at the troll. “They belonged to a young sailor. Lovesick, he was, for his sweetheart back home. He jumped ship, the care-for-nothing.”
The troll examined the articles. “Very thoughtful of you, I’m sure, but I’m afraid they’re too small.”
“Gods above, they ain’t for you,” Braxx said, outraged. As if he’d try to dress a great, hairy troll. “They’re for the gal. She needs proper boots and clothing. If you’d the sense the gods gave a goose, you wouldn’t let her run around in her stocking feet. She’s bound to catch the ague. I know a tunic and trousers ain’t the proper getup for a lady, but they’re good wool and bound to be warmer than the togs she’s wearing.”
“Thank you, Captain,” the troll murmured. “Such generosity is unexpected. Add the cost to our tally. You will be reimbursed when we reach Gambollia.”
“No such thing. They ain’t my clothes.” Braxx shoved the comb at her. “Almost forgot. Found this among my stores.”
“Allow me to pay you for the comb, at least,” the troll said. “Luxury items are dear.”
“Did I ask you for money, damn you?” Braxx thundered. “I’m the captain of this vessel, and I reckon I’m free to do with my stores as I garffin well please.”
“As you say.” The troll inclined her head, her bearing almost regal, and walked away.
Like she done me a favor, and not t’other way around, Braxx thought indignantly.
* * * *
Comb in paw, Gertie went in search of Raine. She found the girl amidships, sitting next to a pile of crates with her back to the river. She’d stopped crying, thank Kron, but her expression was woebegone. The child was plainly grieved at leaving Tiny.
The girl was something of a surprise. For one thing, Gertie never expected Raine and the giant to become fast friends. To add meat to the sauce, Raine showed signs of talent, and she’d rescued the children, which showed compassion and kindness. In truth, the girl’s spirit and resiliency had earned Gertie’s grudging respect. She liked Raine, damn it, and that irritated her. She couldn’t afford to become attached to the chit. Raine was a weapon.
“Get away from the water horses, Chaz,” Gertie said, not bothering to hide her irritation. “You’re making the captain nervous.”
The boy gave her a puzzled look, but complied, moving to sit near Mauric.
“You don’t have to snap at him,” Raine said, her tone stiff with censure. “He’s a just little boy.”
“Better for him to get his iddy widdy feewings hurt than to fall off the boat. We don’t have time to drag the river.” She dropped the boots and clothing in Raine’s lap. “The captain sent these to you. Seems they were left behind by a former member of the crew.” She squatted down. “He also gave me a comb. Turn around, and I’ll worry the snarls out of your hair.”
Raine hesitated, then turned to face the river, though she kept her gaze downcast, Gertie no
ticed.
She unbound the girl’s matted braid and sifted the snarled locks with her claws.
“Tandara must agree with you,” Gertie said. “Your hair’s gotten thicker, and I’m astonished at how much it’s grown. The first time I clapped eyes on you, I thought you were molting.”
“Very funny.”
Gertie chuckled at the girl’s sullen tone. “You got better. Your hair is quite lovely now.”
Raine remained silent, staring at the deck between her feet.
“You seem a mite edgy, pet.” Gertie set to work with the comb on Raine’s hair. “What’s bothering you?”
“It’s a long list. Where would you like me to start?”
“Why don’t you begin by telling me why you’re so afraid of water?”
The girl’s shoulders tensed. “My parents drowned in a river when I was little. I was in the car with them when they died.”
“Car?”
“It’s a sort of mechanized carriage.”
“Ah,” Gertie said. “I’m sorry. That would frighten anyone.”
“I can swim.” Raine wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. “Mimsie insisted I take lessons at the city pool when I was seven.” That had been a happy summer. She’d made friends with a girl in her swimming class. Then school had started back and she’d gotten sick again, and that had been that. No friends for the sick girl. “And I don’t mind the ocean so much, especially in the daylight, but rivers . . .”
Her voice trailed off.
After a moment, she asked, “Do you think he’ll be all right?”
“Chaz? I wasn’t that hard on the boy.”
“Not Chaz.” Raine’s voice quavered.
“Ah, you mean Tiny. He’s a big giant. He can take care of himself. Why, I dare say, he’s halfway to Udom.”
“Is that where he lives?”
“Aye, Tiny and the rest of the giants. The trolls too and the bird people and the centaurs and a host of others, including the dragons before they faded away. Monsters, humans call us, though not to our faces, not if they know what’s good for ’em. We prefer the term Kronlings, after Kron, the god who fashioned us.”
A Meddle of Wizards Page 20
